


A Cafe, A Camera and Hot Chocolate

by Katalina_Riddle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 11:02:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13950204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalina_Riddle/pseuds/Katalina_Riddle
Summary: Colin and Astoria are both hurting. It's been three years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and they still have emotional scars that won't heal. Will they continue to run from their fears, or will fate bring them together to give each other comfort?





	A Cafe, A Camera and Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaarina_Riddle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaarina_Riddle/gifts).



> For my incredible Slytherclaw Twin KR...I don't know where I'd be without you! Best beta ever!
> 
> Characters are the creation of JK Rowling and the rights are owned by Bloomsbury. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made from this story.
> 
> Enjoy! Xx

 

 

A thick yet not unattractive fog- hung low over the Venetian landscape. The canals were eerie this early in the morning; people were still fast asleep, except for the few enthusiastic locals who braved the cold.  _ And Colin _ . He was restless today. He wandered aimlessly over bridges and through cobbled alleyways, nodding brief, friendly and absent-minded greetings to the few people that he passed. 

 

Colin had  _ a lot _ on his mind these days. He had left Hogwarts three years ago, and the weight of that final battle haunted him  _ still _ . He had lost friends in that skirmish; people he cared about. Recovery had  _ seemed _ impossible.  _ And yet, _ they had rallied. Hogwarts had been rebuilt, students had gradually returned, and the appearance of normalcy had settled down. But Colin couldn’t settle.  _ He had left and not stopped moving. _

 

Now, he was traversing the unfamiliar territory of Venice, camera in hand, capturing memories, stories and life through a lens; because at least doing this filled a void. Even if it was only temporarily. Because he knew that tonight, just like every other night, he would return to his apartment and drink away the pain.  _ But for now, this early morning walk was enough. _

Astoria took a sip of her hot chocolate. She sat in a café overlooking Piazza San Marco. In the square, local churchgoers were gathering at the doors of the Basilica and the few tourists who had been motivated to brave the cold were feeding the pigeons. She smiled. How innocent and excited they were.  _ If only _ she could feel like that. If only it was enough simply to be in another city absorbing a different culture.  _ But it wasn’t. _ Even after three years away from Hogwarts, Astoria was struggling. She was a pureblood. She wasn’t supposed to mourn the deaths of those beneath her. But she had left the Dungeons after the Battle and entered the Great Hall to a scene that she could never forget. Bodies of students, teachers and other brave souls lined the walls of the hall. Parts of the ceiling had caved in and rubble littered the floor. 

 

Among the dead she had seen Lavender Brown, Fred Weasley, Remus and Nymphadora Tonks and others; and she had cried. She had wept so many tears for the people who had fought for her, but who she was never allowed to call friends. So, instead of facing the pain, she had left.  _ She had run. _ Europe had presented a far easier prospect. That was how she had ended up here, in this café in Venice.

Colin made his way down a small street that brought him out to Piazza San Marco. He had a soft spot for this place, ever since his parents had brought him and his brother here when they were children. Winter hung in the air, and the fog was gradually lifting. He lifted his camera to his face to capture the innocence of the children playing outside the Basilica. That had been him once upon a time. 

 

Now he carried the weight of worlds on his shoulders. It was too heavy for him to bare alone,  _ but who else could possibly understand? _ He sighed and turned to face the east section of the piazza. 

 

A small café beckoned to him through the mist. As he approached, he saw a pretty scene. A girl with long blonde hair covered by a stylish fur hat sat at a table drinking a hot chocolate. Her eyes were following the people in the squares. Without thinking, Colin lifted the camera again. As the shutter snapped loudly, the girl turned to face him. _He gasped._ _Astoria._

The moment she heard that shutter snap, she knew who it was. The Gryffindor boy had been in her year at school. She had always considered him a pesky child, far beneath her due to his muggle born blood status, and always following that damned Harry Potter around with his camera, smaller brother in tow. She smiled hesitantly at him and stood. “ _ Colin _ .” 

 

They stared at each other in silence, each unsure of what to say, until finally she broke the ice. “Join me for breakfast?” Colin breathed out. He placed his camera on the table where she was seated and pulled up a chair. 

 

She half-smiled. That camera again. “May I…may I see some of your pictures?”

Colin took some of the developed pictures out of his satchel and passed them to Astoria. She offered him a smile as she took them, which he returned, then sat with her head pouring over them. She was a little shocked at how good he was. He had perfectly captured the lines of Venice and the enraptured delight of childhood innocence. As she neared the end of the pile, all the delight disappeared. 

 

For, after soaking up the delights of Venice, she was met with pictures of the very thing she was trying to forget. Pictures of rubble and ruin, people tormented and crying, death and destruction everywhere. Her chest tightened, tears welled up in her eyes, and she began to cry, heart-wrenching sobs that wracked her body.

Colin saw the tears first. What was she crying for? What pictures had she seen? And then he remembered and hated himself. He had left  _ those  _ pictures in there. Those dreadful images of the aftermath of the Battle. 

 

When she began to cry, he gently removed the pictures from her hand and lifted her off her chair into his arms. He held her tightly as she sobbed, sheltering her from the pitying stares of strangers. She buried her face in his coat to stifle the sobs, and he held her tighter.

The warmth from Colin’s embrace was comforting. She had needed this for a long time. She heard Colin’s voice; “I’m sorry.  _ I’m so, so sorry, _ Astoria.” He was whispering into her hair, choking back tears of his own. 

 

She lifted her face, so she could look at him. “ _ No _ . I needed to see them.  _ I needed it _ . You did me a favour, Colin. I needed to see the damage that my family had a part in causing. I am the one that should be sorry…” and her voice broke again. 

 

Colin relinquished his grasp of her and put his gloved hands on her cheeks to wipe away the relentless tears. “You are  _ not _ your family,” he whispered. 

 

She closed her eyes, savouring the warmth of his touch, and nodded.

Astoria opened her eyes and looked into Colin’s.

 

Four years ago, she would have laughed at the suggestion that she would one day be in Venice with Colin Creevey.  _ She, a Greengrass! _ And yet, here they were. She looked up at Colin, and he looked at her, and they smiled. They understood each other. 

 

They understood that finally, they had each found someone to share their pain. They understood that the pain would not go away, but it could be easier to bare by sharing it. They understood that blood status made no difference.

 

They understood that  _ right here, right now _ , in Venice, they had found their forever person.  _ And all because of a café, a camera and hot chocolate _ .

 


End file.
